Lord of Fortune

by Darcy Burke

  “It was dangerous for you too. I had to stop Thaddeus from going into that room. He would’ve seen you for certain.”

  Penn’s gaze took on a steely glint. “I wouldn’t have minded. Would’ve given me an excuse to fight him.”

  Gone was his lively tone and replaced with something darker. Stress speared through her, and she worked to hide it from him lest he only grow more upset.

  He turned his chair, angling his body toward hers. “What will you do, Amelia? With Forrest?”

  “Do? Nothing. Hopefully I won’t see him again.”

  “He’s your husband. He may decide he wishes to claim his rights—”

  She jumped up from the chair and paced toward the bed. “Must we discuss this?” Anguish spiraled from her belly, prompting her to wrap her arms around her midsection.

  Turning, she startled to find Penn just a foot away. He’d moved so quickly. And silently.

  “No,” he said. “But I can’t help it. I’m in agony thinking of what your future may hold.”

  She was too. And in that moment, she didn’t want to shoulder that burden alone. “Penn,” she asked softly. “Can we pretend to be what the innkeeper thinks? If just for tonight.”

  He looked momentarily confused, his brows pitching over his eyes before realization struck and his pupils narrowed. “You want to be my wife.”

  She nodded, unable to speak as emotion poured through her.

  He lifted his hands to her face and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, dragging them down to her lips where they met in the center. She opened her mouth and drew them inside, her tongue sliding over the thick pads.

  He inhaled sharply as his lids drooped. He pushed one thumb farther inside. She closed her lips around him and sucked hard. He slipped his free hand around to the back of her neck and began pulling pins from her hair. When the mass was loose around her face, she relinquished his thumb. And he immediately replaced it with his mouth.

  The kiss was rough and desperate, a perfect expression for how she felt inside. If she couldn’t have this night with him—just one more time in his arms—she thought she might perish.

  She wouldn’t, of course, and even thinking such melodrama was the height of idiocy. But she was helpless. He’d talked of her future, and right now, it was a dark, hazy unknown. Tonight, she wanted light and comfort, to bask in the knowledge of what she knew to be true—that Penn was the only man she’d ever loved, and the only man she ever would.

  He explored her mouth with deep thrusts of his tongue and excited her with nips and sucks, tugging on her lower lip until she gasped with want. Then he began to strip his clothes away with great urgency. She helped, untying his cravat and unbuttoning his waistcoat.

  She still wore her riding habit, which she’d put on after returning to the inn in Glastonbury. It, like the gown she’d brought and worn to Thaddeus’s cottage, could be donned and removed without the assistance of a maid. Since, of course, she’d left Culley at Hollyhaven.

  When he went to the chair to remove his boots, she unbuttoned her jacket and tugged her arms free of the snug-fitting garment. After hanging it on a hook, she began to unfasten her skirt.

  Penn had returned, clad only in his shirt and breeches. “Let me,” he murmured, covering her hands with his and working, effortlessly, to remove her skirt.

  He helped her step from the fabric, then hung it on the hook with her jacket.

  She drew her shirt over her head, and once more, he provided assistance. Again, he took great care with her clothing, hanging it up with the rest.

  “You could be a ladies’ maid,” she said.

  “Only yours.” He drew her against his chest and renewed their kiss. This time was gentler, slower. They took their time studying each other’s reactions and offering up new methods to drive the other to distraction.

  She pulled away to tug his shirt up over his head. When she made to hang it on the hook beside hers, he said, “You needn’t take the same care with my things.”

  She hung the garment and gave him a saucy stare. “I’m doing what a wife ought.”

  “Amelia.” The word was part growl of desperation and part heartfelt plea.

  She knew what he wanted. She wanted it too.

  They moved more quickly, removing the rest of their clothing until they were bare to the other. He stared at her a long moment, as if he were memorizing every inch of her flesh. She thought so, because that was what she was doing to him. From the muscular plane of his shoulder to the flat expanse of his abdomen to the jut of his shaft to the slope of his thigh, she would remember him always.

  She lunged for him, unable to be apart from him for another moment. He caught her against him, kissing her soundly as he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. It wasn’t far, and he laid her gently on the mattress before climbing up beside her.

  She turned on her side and they lay facing each other. He stroked her collarbone and trailed his fingertips down to her bicep before cupping her breast. Sensation bloomed from his caress, making her breasts feel heavy and her sex pulse.

  He lowered his head and licked at her nipple, softly at first, then he closed around her and sucked, just as she’d done to his thumb. She gasped and thrust her fingers into his hair, holding him to her. Nothing had ever felt so good, so right. She clung to the moment, to the sensation, to Penn.

  His mouth didn’t leave her, but his hand traveled down her side, leaving a trail of heat and want until he found her sex. He stroked along her folds, but their positions didn’t allow for her to open her legs. And she wanted to feel him inside her.

  Pushing on his shoulder, she flattened him to his back and rolled on top of him. As she rose up, he was forced to relinquish her breast. He stared up at her with curiosity and intense desire.

  “You seem to have a plan of your own.”

  “Not particularly.” She’d never been on the top, but she knew it was done. “You’ll have to show me.” She straddled his hips and moaned as soon as his cock grazed her sex.

  “Are you certain? You seem to be doing quite well on your own.”

  She’d closed her eyes briefly, but now opened them again to see what she should do. He watched her, his eyes slitted, as he clasped her hips.

  “It’s not all that different from riding a horse,” he said.

  A laugh spilled from her lips in spite of the intensity of the moment. “I should hope it is. I don’t ever plan to ride a horse without clothing.”

  “You don’t want to reenact the tale of Lady Godiva? Remind me to show you the copy of the book, in which the story is contained, by Roger of Wendover in my father’s library.”

  She instantly sobered, thinking again that she wouldn’t be spending time in his father’s library. He seemed to realize it too, for he curled his hand around her back and drew her down. “Kiss me.”

  She did, opening her mouth over his and spearing her tongue inside. She liked this angle. She was very much in control and in command. He seemed to like it too, if his moans were any indication. Along with the rise and thrust of his hips. With each pulse, his cock stroked her sex, and she whimpered with need.

  She drew back enough to whisper. “Show me.”

  He put his hands between them and gripped his cock. “Guide me inside. Sit up so I can watch.”

  She straightened, looking down at where his hand was wrapped around the base of his shaft. Putting her fingers over his, she lifted her hips and brought him to her entrance.

  He let go of his cock and stroked her folds, opening her as he pushed inside with her assistance. “Bring yourself down on me.” His voice was tight and strained, echoing the extreme urgency she felt.

  She pushed down, going slowly as he filled her sheath. She gasped when she was flush against him, his length buried inside her body.

  “Now move.”

  She looked at his face, still awash with delicious tension. His eyes were still open and focused on where their bodies joined.

  “How?” she asked
, sounding breathless as pleasure spread through her. She was content to just be like this, having him a part of her.

  “However you want.” He rotated his pelvis, gently thrusting. “Slow like that. Or fast.” He held her waist as she withdrew part way, then snapped his hips up, driving deep. Lights danced behind her eyes.

  “Oh.” She decided this could be a bit like riding a horse. She pulled up, lifting herself off his shaft, then bore down again, taking him as far as she could. Over and over, she repeated the motion, relishing not just the acceleration of pleasure but the feeling of control.

  “Faster.” His fingers dug into her hips. “Please.”

  She increased her speed, but incrementally, after a handful of strokes. His hands skimmed up her ribs and cupped her breasts. He ran his thumbs over the tight nubs, then squeezed his fingers around them. There was no pain, just a delicious burst of sensation and a sudden urge to move.

  She rose and fell more quickly now, grinding down against him as he massaged her breasts. She’d never been more aware of how his touch could make her feel. Beautiful. Rapturous. Powerful.

  He began to urge her on with words, commanding her speed and her direction, extolling her beauty and prowess. Then his thumb was on her sex, stroking that most sensitive place at the top—her clitoris—and she was lost. Her muscles tightened as her climax crashed upon her. She cried out and moved in a frenzy to satiate the desperate need inside her.

  In a fluid movement, he pulled her down against his chest, then flipped her to her back. “My turn,” he murmured before taking her mouth in a long, wet kiss.

  She clasped at his back and wrapped her legs around him. She dug her heels into his backside, never wanting him to leave her.

  But he did. Just barely and only to drive home once again, his cock filling her and prolonging her orgasm. The sensations rioting through her were mad and wonderful. She gave in completely to the need to feel everything he would give her, putting her mind and body utterly in his power.

  He took it. And with the greatest care. He slowed for a moment, letting them both catch their breath. He ended the kiss so that he could kiss along her jaw and nip at her ear. She felt spent, but not for long. He began to move more purposefully again, and soon, pleasure began to build once more.

  “Move to your side.” His words against her ear didn’t make sense.

  “How?”

  “Roll slightly.” He guided her to her left side, pinning her left leg beneath him. “Bend your leg.” He clasped her right thigh and showed her what he meant.

  She brought her knee toward her chest and this opened her to him in a way she never imagined. The position brought him against her mound, sparking a delicious sensation that prompted another climax. Her keening cries filled the room, but she was incapable of stopping herself.

  He pumped into her again and again, sending her so far over the edge of reason that she wasn’t sure she’d find her way back again. His shout joined her chorus, and she was aware of his thighs tensing between hers. Ecstasy claimed them both as he rode her into the storm.

  It was several minutes before calm returned. She felt boneless but wonderful as he rolled from her and sprawled on his back. Amelia stayed on her side while a smile of satisfaction curved her lips.

  She was suddenly so tired. A yawn assaulted her, and she brought her hand to her mouth.

  “We can sleep for a while,” he said, pulling back the coverlet and helping her slide beneath it.

  She ought to clean up, to put a night rail on at least, but she was too exhausted. Too sated. And far too comfortable as Penn drew her against him. He lay on his back, and she curled into his side, her hand splayed over his chest.

  Floating between consciousness and sleep, dreams began to invade her mind. “Maybe I can divorce him.”

  Lips pressed against her forehead. “That would be difficult, my love.”

  “You still couldn’t marry me,” she murmured. “An earl can’t have a divorced countess.”

  “I won’t be an earl.”

  She sighed. “You don’t know that.”

  “We could leave Britain.” His voice sounded so far away, as if she stood on top of a tower and he was at the base. They were a prince and a princess in a fairy tale.

  Only theirs didn’t have a happy ending.

  Chapter 19

  The sound of their door opening drew Penn to full wakefulness. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and blinked at the figure in the doorway. “Gideon?”

  His half brother closed the door and moved into the chamber. “Get up. We don’t have much time. I can only stay a few minutes.”

  Amelia stirred beside him. He leaned down and kissed her temple. “Gideon’s here. We need to get up.”

  “I’ll turn my back,” Gideon said, positioning himself in front of the hearth.

  Penn left the bed and pulled his clothing on as quickly as possible. He pulled Amelia’s chemise from the hook and handed it to her. “Do you need help?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll manage.”

  Penn went to the chair and sat down to pull on his stockings and boots. “How late is it?”

  Gideon slid him a weary glance. “Nearly morning.”

  “Can I assume from your urgency that you have the dagger?”

  Pulling the blade from his coat, Gideon tossed it onto the table next to the book. “I’d write down the code before you go, just in case you lose it. Better to have two copies.”

  Penn noted he said “you” not “we,” but perhaps it was a slip of the tongue. “We solved the code,” he said. “I’ll just decipher it now, and then we’ll know where we’re going.”

  Gideon’s eyes flashed with admiration. “Well done. But then I’m not surprised.”

  Penn finished pulling on his boot. “The words on the heart said the Vale of Neath.”

  “Waterfalls and gorges and caverns,” Gideon said. “Your father took us there one summer.”

  “You remember.” That had been their very best summer together, or so Penn had always thought. “It’s one of my favorite places.”

  “Mine too. I haven’t been back.”

  Penn smiled up at him as he turned toward the table and picked up the pencil. “Well, you will now.”

  Gideon shook his head. “I’m not going with you. One of Foliot’s men followed me here. I need to go now and divert his attention.”

  Penn copied down the code from the dagger, checking it twice before handing the weapon back to Gideon. “Here, take it. And the heart. We don’t need them. I’ll return the book to the Williams-Wynn family. After my father spends a few days with it first,” he added with a half smile.

  “I don’t need any of it.” Gideon’s gray eyes were dark as iron. “I only want the real treasures—all of them.”

  Penn frowned. “What happened with Foliot?”

  Gideon shook his head. “There isn’t time. Just find the heart and keep it safe, please.”

  “I will.”

  Amelia pulled on her jacket as she came toward them. “What does the dagger say?”

  Penn quickly deciphered the letters. “Sgwd yr Eira. It means waterfall of snow.”

  “That’s where you’ll go?” Gideon asked.

  Penn stood. “Meet us there.”

  “I will if I can. But I won’t let Foliot or his men get to you. Only you can find the heart. I may be good at planning, but you’re the treasure hunter, Penn.”

  “And you’re the earl—I’ll make sure you are, Gideon, even if I have to leave Britain.”

  Gideon’s lips spread into a fast smile. “I don’t care anymore. I have a birthright. I’m a descendant of Gareth. The Thirteen Treasures are my responsibility—not the Order’s, mine. I will ensure they’re found and protected.”

  “What if you aren’t the only descendant of Gareth?” Penn asked. “Someone in the Order may challenge you on that.”

  “Let them try.” Gideon turned and stalked toward the door. “I have to go. Wait a bit before you leave so that I
can lure them away.”

  “Them? It’s more than one?”

  Gideon shrugged. “I’m not sure. Be wary when you go, just in case someone lingers and catches your scent.”

  Penn went to his half brother and clasped his hand. “Be safe. And come to Hollyhaven when you can. I’ll have good news for you.”

  “You’re such a bloody optimist.”

  “My father taught me to be.” Penn winced as he realized his father was really Gideon’s father.

  “And mine taught me the opposite.” The disgust in Gideon’s tone sliced into Penn as surely as that rock had carved into his hand the day he’d found the dagger. The day his life had irrevocably changed. His gaze strayed to Amelia, who stood quietly near the table.

  “Be well, Penn. And find a way to marry her.” He inclined his head toward Amelia. “Whatever you do, don’t subject her to what Septon did to my mother. No woman deserves that.”

  What he really meant was that no child deserved to lose their mother in such a way. Penn agreed. At least in this instance, there wasn’t a child.

  As far as he knew… He hadn’t been particularly thoughtful tonight, nor had he been the other day in the lean-to.

  With a final nod, Gideon turned and left the chamber, closing the door firmly behind him.

  “I wonder what happened with Foliot,” Amelia said, echoing what was rooted in Penn’s mind.

  “I don’t know, but Gideon seems to have a new purpose.”

  “It sounds like a good one,” she said softly.

  Penn agreed. And he’d do everything he could to help him, including finding the heart. He went to the window and looked out into the predawn. It would be light in the next hour. “We can leave soon.” He turned from the window to see her staring at him with a sad expression.

  He moved toward her, asking quietly, “What is it?”

  “You know.” She shook her head. “Let’s not speak of it. We’ll find the heart, and then we’ll return to Hollyhaven.”

  “Where Egg will be waiting with the proof that I’m the earl. Then you’ll help me burn it.”